An Angel in Middle Earth
by Troll Boy and GoS
Summary: Aziraphale is mysteriously transported to Middle Earth. Can he read his way through Elrond's library, despense sage moral advice AND foil the forces of darkness in Lothlorien?


Disclaimer – None of the characters or settings found herein belong to me in any way, shape or form.

A/N – This particular story had been half-finished and languishing on my hard disk for a very long time, so I decided to finish it. Not quite sure which part of my warped imagination the idea of Aziraphale falling into Middle-Earth came from, but I can blame neither sugar, alcohol, or any other form of compulsive substance abuse. Any and all feedback is very much appreciated, whether it takes for the form of gratuitous praise, concrit, or angry diatribes detailing the ways in which I've mangled Tolkien's vision of Middle-Earth.

Aziraphale was in Imladris. He had been sitting in the backroom of his shop, engrossed in The Complete Works of John Donne, when a plot hole had suddenly appeared in the fabric of reality and transported him to Middle Earth. It had all been rather annoying at first. The Elves had erroneously assumed that he had been sent to Arda by the Valar to aid them against the shadow in the east, and it had taken him quite a while to get across the concepts of 'angel', 'other reality', and 'hopelessly lost'.

His temporary displacement had not been without its compensations though. There was Elrond's library for a start. He had mastered the nuances of Quenya and Sindarin in a day, and was now devouring the fourth volume of The History of the Noldor: Revised Edition. There was also the fact that some of the younger Elves, believing him to be one of the Maia, had sought moral guidance from him on several occasions. It was a novel experience; even if the best advice he could give a young Elf pondering whether they should remain in Arda or sail to the west, was to 'think about it over a nice cup of tea'. Truth be told he rather liked this part of Middle-Earth; it was peaceful, quiet, and there was none of that awful bee-bop music. He did however miss certain things, his bookshop for one, and having a diet that consisted of foods other than fruit and lembas. He also missed Crowley, not that he would have admitted it of course.

He was half way through a chapter on Maeglin, and why he was a complete bastard, when a perturbed looking Lord of Rivendell walked into the library.

"Is everything all right?" asked Aziraphale looking up from the scroll.

"I am afraid it is not. I have received word from the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien that events of a most abhorrent nature have befallen the area east of their lands. I am informed that in a number of the villages bordering the Golden Wood worship of the Dark Lord Morgoth Baulir has taken hold."

"Oh," said Aziraphale suddenly concerned. Thwarting the wiles of evil was still a major part of his job description, even if he was in another reality. "And there was no sign of it going on before?"

"No. These have always been places of peace. The Lady of Lothlorien believes that a creature of the shadow has entered the west, and is raising support for the darkness in the east."

"Just out of interest, this 'creature of the shadow'. There doesn't happen to be anything snakelike about it at all, does there?"

The Elf Lord looked at the angel curiously. "The Lady Galadriel did mention that her visions showed the creature to have the shape of a man, yet the eyes and tongue of a snake. Though it keeps its' eyes hidden behind black glass."

Aziraphale suddenly looked embarrassed. "Err. Oh dear. I really didn't think that he was going show up here. I think I probably better go and..."

"You know of this creature?"

"Remember when I told you about my vocation."

"Of course. You thwart the machinations of evil."

"Well, I think this creature of the shadow, as you put it, might be the one whose machinations of evil I'm supposed to thwart. I'm terribly sorry about all of this. I didn't know he was in Middle-Earth too. One can only guess at the trouble he's going to cause. I think I should probably go and put a stop whatever it is he's doing."

"You intend fight the creature, and drive it from these lands?" asked Elrond approvingly.

"Well, a few well chosen stern words definitely."

"You must not go alone and unprepared. Glorfindel and Estel will accompany you in this undertaking."

----

The following day Aziraphale set off for Lothlorien with Glorfindel and Estel - who, rather unsurprisingly, preferred to be called Strider. They were, in Aziraphale considered opinion, both good chaps. Especially Strider, who, unlike the vast majority of humans Aziraphale had encountered, had been engaged to the same woman for over ten years without any... unchaste activities having taken place. He just wished that the dear fellow would realise that defending the west from the shadow in the east didn't necessarily preclude one from following the tenets of basic personal hygiene. The terrain was admittedly rather hard going for the corporeal body of an ethereal being that spent the majority of his spare time sitting down and reading. Still, they made it from Rivendell to the borders of Lothlorien in good time and relatively good spirits. They were not a moment too soon.

----

In her penthouse flet, at the top of the Golden Wood's tallest tree, Galadriel paced. Her husband merely sat impassively in his favourite chair. She couldn't help but feel that, of late, the Elf Lord she had married had recently gone from being Celeborn the Wise to Celeborn the Stupefied.

"My husband," she said attempting to make contact. "I see the most troubling visions. A terrible fate has befallen our border guard. They have been infiltrated by the creature of the shadow, which has prompted them to behave in the most tawdry of manners."

"Hmm. You do what you think best beloved wife of mine," said Celeborn disinterestedly.

Oh well there was nothing else for it. She projected the visions she had seen, not sparing any detail, directly into her husbands mind. His eyes suddenly widened in shock, and he stood bolt upright.

"Dear Eru, what is this madness," the Elf Lord cried out.

"You see now the peril that our people face?"

"B... but. Haldir was... with a... It is not physically possible."

"Fear not my husband," said Galadriel. "I sense that a presence of goodness has just entered our realm. We must prepare to great them."

Her husband, now Celeborn the Gibbering Wreck, began to make a rudimentary attempt to get ready to meet the visitors.

----

Aziraphale could hear the sniggering a mile off. 'Someone' was obviously having a very good time.

"I think that I better go and sort the out," he said to his companions.

"Would it not be unwise to go alone?" asked the ranger.

"Oh don't worry about me," said Aziraphale, a determined look crossing his face.

----

Crowley was having a very good time. The villagers had been too easy to corrupt to provide any real entertainment. All he had needed to do was appeal to there baser instincts. The Elves though, they had been much more fun. It had taken him several days to tap into those well-hidden parts of their nature that were less than saintly. He had managed it though, and was now smugly watching the consequences, feeling that he really deserved an Advanced Tempting Certificate.

----

Aziraphale found the source of the sniggering sat in a clearing, watching a group of Elves behaving in a most unseemly fashion.

"Oh really Crowley," he said, trying to sound severe.

The most disreputable looking Elf on Arda grinned up at him.

"And those ears look ridiculous on you."

"I quite like them myself," said Crowley, looking completely unabashed.

"This can't go on. You aren't supposed to be doing any tempting here."

"And you aren't supposed to be doing any thwarting."

Aziraphale flushed slightly. "Well, I've been reading mainly."

Crowley smirked.

"Neither of us is really supposed to be here. I just fell through some kind of vortex and landed in the House of Elrond."

"Same thing happened to me. Well except I ended up in the sodding Mines of bloody Moria. At least you didn't have to negotiate with a stroppy Balrog."

"Look we need to get back."

"How?"

"I don't know. We'll have to find a way. But first you're going to apologise for this mess." Aziraphale nodded towards the entwined Elves on the other side of the clearing; who, noticing the gaze of the angel upon them, suddenly began to feel utterly ashamed of themselves.

Two hours later a triumphant looking Aziraphale and a sheepish looking Crowley stood before the Lady Galadriel and a twitchy looking Lord Celeborn.

"Crowley's got something to say to you. Haven't you," said Aziraphale nudging him.

"Err... Yeah, sorry about everything," he said, at once possessed by the uncomfortable sensation that the Lady of Lothlorien was having a good nosy around his mind. "Look would you mind not doing that?"

"As you wish," said Galadriel, her lips curling into something that was almost a smirk. "I see that you both wish to return to your own world. If you travel to the other side of the forest you will find a gateway that will return you to your proper places. It has already been entered by several young human maidens who have come here in search of King Thranduil's son Legolas. Though why they seek him I cannot fathom."

"Just one question," said Crowley. "That whole, ethereal all knowing Elf Queen act, how do you manage to keep it up."

"Oh that," said Galadriel. "It's for the tourists really."

It took Aziraphale and Crowley a very long time to find the inter-dimensional portal. They had a map, but neither was particularly good when it came to route finding. They eventually spotted three teenage girls wearing jeans and T-shirts sitting near a tear in space, time and narrative, waiting to be rescued by the first Elf that came along. Aziraphale paused in his step. It didn't seem quite right to him, for young girls to be transversing realities in order to stalk young Elves. There was only one thing for it. He strode over to where the girls were sitting, and beamed cheerily.

"Tell me. Have any of you though of letting Jesus into your lives?"

The response was almost immediate. They stood, screamed, and ran back through the portal. He smiled to himself; it worked every time. Behind him Crowley started to laugh.

Now with 50 less kin-slaying.


End file.
